Au Revoir Dans Un Monde
by TMara
Summary: On her deathbed, Christine wants to make peace with her Angel and be forgiven by him for her betrayal before she dies.


Author's note: I still do not own anything or anybody - either POTO-connected or connected to "Don Carlos", which, as mentioned in the story, was composed by Giuseppe Verdi and premiered in Paris in 1867. The original French libretto of this 5-act version was written by Joseph Méry and Camille du Locle. The English translation of the duet quoted goes like that:

Farewell till we meet in a world where life is better,

where the first hour of eternity strikes,

and there we shall find in the peace of the Lord

the eternally sought thing called happiness

(I do not know who translated it, I do not own the rights to this translation either, but you can find the whole libretto here: .ch/libretto/libverdon_)

Also, if you like the story, let me know, if you hate it, tell me why! Reviews may be submitted in English, French, German, Italian or Swedish. If you like this story, please also check out my other POTO-fic "Be Safe" and stay tuned for my soon-to-be-pulished new story "You Are Not Alone" - which will be a longer one, and in that one our boy will get the girl. As to the current one, get your tissues out...

Au revoir dans un monde…

The pale light of early morning shone through the high windows of the elegant bedroom. The old man in the wheelchair stirred. He must have fallen asleep. His gaze wandered anxiously to the frail woman lying alone in their marriage bed. Had she…? No. He sighed with relief and looked lovingly at his wife of over forty years. No, she had not left him yet. His short slumber had not condemned her to die alone.

He had known for quite some time that her life was coming to an end and had watched her slowly growing weaker over the past few months. He had had time to get used to the idea of losing her. But it would only be hours now. The doctors had not even expected her to live through the night, yet she was still breathing. He knew though, that she would not see the sunset of this new day anymore.

It was hard to imagine life without her. He loved her so much, and even though she did not feel quite the same about him, she had made him incredibly happy and given him two wonderful children. How beautiful she still was! Her long curls had turned gray long ago, but they still framed her delicate forehead like a halo. While he looked at her beloved face, she opened her wondrous brown eyes. "Raoul," her voice was barely more than a whisper. "Shh, my love, don't talk, conserve your strength," he asked her.

She grew agitated, tossing under the covers. "No, I must speak. There is some unfinished business." He tried to calm her. "Don't worry," he promised, taking her hand. " I'll see to it." A faint smile played across her unearthly pale features. "First, I have to thank you for your patience and understanding and your undying love, which you have always lavished on me, even though I could not love you back the way you would have deserved." He sighed. "That was not your fault. You can't tell your heart who to love. I think we both realized too late that your heart was already taken." She nodded and a shadow crossed the bottom of her dark brown eyes. "Raoul, you must believe me when I tell you that I have never seen him again since that night, and I have never had any contact with him. Even though my heart has always been his, I have honored my marriage vows."

"Christine! You don't think I ever suspected you of an infidelity?" shock and hurt echoed through his voice. "I have always known that I can trust you and that you would not betray me so. What makes you say such things now, after all these years?"

"Because," she whispered, "I have to ask you a big favor. I need to see him now one last time. I cannot die in peace unless I know he has forgiven me for my betrayal and the pain I caused him all those years ago. Please, Raoul, help me. I do not have much time left." Whatever he had expected, that had not been it. Helplessly he asked her: "But since we haven't been in touch with him, how do you know he is even still alive, and if so, where can I find him?"

Her eyes focused on a point in the far distance - or rather in the past. Absentmindedly humming a melody that had haunted her husband for all their married life, she seemed to look back to her long-gone youth, the carefree days when her life had still been ahead of her, and she had been full of hopes and dreams. A time before the fatal choice that had shattered all those dreams. "Somehow I know he's always with me, he, the unseen genius…" she murmured.

Suddenly her mind returned to the present. "He is alive," she said with conviction. "I would have felt it in here" – her hand moved to her heart – "if he had died. As to his whereabouts – ask Mme. Giry. He always trusted her, she would know." Raoul nodded, praying to God she was right and his former rival was still alive – and close enough that he could be here in a short time. As agitated as Christine was it was obvious she would be dead within the next few hours and since this man's forgiveness obviously meant the world to her, Raoul somehow had to make sure she could still be pardoned by her former teacher before she passed away. If he could help it she would not have to die before the man she had left and yet loved all her life had given her his absolution for the betrayal.

He wheeled himself over to the desk and wrote a short note, sealed it and rang for the maid. "Tell Remi to ride into town and deliver this message to Mme. Giry. He shall wait for her reply and return immediately," he instructed the young girl who curtsied, leaving the room while the Vicomte turned back to his wife. "Be calm now and conserve your strength," he pleaded with her. "I have sent for him, but it may take a while till he is here." She relaxed visibly and smiled gratefully at her husband. She knew it must have hurt him terribly that she had asked to see her Angel once more – the man that had held her heart captive and had stood between them for all those years. She had hurt them both, Raoul and Erik, and as a consequence had suffered a lot herself, and now she couldn't leave this world without having made peace with both of them.

The Vicomte de Chagny was getting nervous. Remi had returned about an hour ago, saying that Mme. Giry had promised to talk to her "friend" and that they would be here within an hour – two hours at the utmost. Christine would not last much longer now, she was clinging to life with sheer force of will, desperately waiting for the man whose heart she had once broken so lightly. Finally Raoul heard a carriage approaching. Christine's pale face lit up. "Erik, at last," she whispered feebly. "I'll see who it is, Little Lotte. Promise me that you will be very calm and composed, or I won't let him into this room, once he arrives," Raoul admonished her. She nodded. What would she not have promised to do if only she could see Erik once more and be forgiven for the pain she had caused him, the lonely life she had condemned him to?

Raoul wheeled himself into the entrance hall, arriving at about the same time as Mme. Giry and Erik entered. It was a strange feeling to see his former rival again after so many years. For a brief moment jealousy reared its ugly head, then he remembered that Christine's peace of mind depended on both their behavior. So he greeted Mme. Giry and Erik friendly and thanked Erik for coming so soon. The former Opera Ghost gave him a condescending look. "Christine asked for my presence, Vicomte. Would _you_ have made her wait?" Raoul smiled; despite the brusqueness of the answer he now knew that Christine still held this man's heart. He would forgive her, had probably forgiven her long ago. His Little Lotte would die in peace.

"Christine is waiting for you," he told the masked man. "I will leave you alone with her. Whatever it is the two of you have to settle, do it now. If there is anything you still want to tell her, don't wait. This is the end. She is running out of time." Raoul's lips quivered and he fought back tears, while Erik desperately tried to mask the deep sorrow and pain that his eyes betrayed. He nodded silently, unable to speak, and followed Raoul's wheelchair to Christine's room. "I'll wait here, call me if you need anything," Raoul promised. Erik slightly inclined his head in acknowledgment and entered the room.

"Erik!" Christine's weak voice called to him, her sunken features suddenly radiant with an inner strength and joy. "Angel! You come to me after all the pain I have caused you!" Her eyes beamed at him, noticing every detail of his appearance. Age had left its traces on him as well. He didn't seem quite as tall anymore, his shoulders slightly stooping, and he was much thinner than she remembered. There were some wrinkles on the visible part of his face now, but his eyes burned into hers with the old fire and love. Despite his advanced arthritis Erik knelt down next to her bed and gently took her hands in his. "Oh Christine, you did not really expect me to stay away when you finally call me?" he asked softly. "Yes, the first weeks after you left me were terrible, but I soon realized that you had hurt yourself just as badly as me. See, when I finally accepted that I had lost you, I decided to channel my unrequited love into something positive for you. That's when I started to watch over you, becoming your protector again. I have never been far away, had anybody harmed or threatened you, I would have been there for you." Christine nodded. She had always felt that his love was with her.

Erik continued, "Now imagine my surprise when I noticed that you hadn't found the happiness you had hoped for. Your eyes lost their spark and you were often melancholic and pensive. You started humming my songs and talking about me and our time together. I finally had no other explanation for your strange behavior than to think that you loved me after all. You do, don't you?" he asked smiling, reading the confirmation in Christine's eyes, even before she nodded.

"So, have you forgiven me for betraying you?" she asked, caressing his exposed cheek.

Erik nodded. "Long ago. But have you forgiven me that I sent you away, let you go?" He gently brushed one of her still unruly grey curls out of her forehead.

"Yes, you meant well, you wanted what was best for me. I only loved you more for your selfless sacrifice." Christine blushed like a young girl, as Erik's expressive eyes looked at her as adoringly as they had all those years ago when he had first brought her to his lair. "Christine, we both made mistakes back then, and we have paid dearly for them with a life of separation. But please know that despite everything your love, the knowledge that you did indeed love me, for myself, has been the greatest joy and blessing of my life. You gave my life a purpose and a direction and if I have at least partially found my way back into the world above and a normal life it is you I have to thank for it."

"It would have been too much happiness if we could have spent our life together," she whispered, "but you were always in my thoughts. There never was a day when I did not think of you. Remember? Hannibal? When you studied the part of Elissa with me? It was my first triumph, the result of our relationship, _our_ triumph. Your spirit and my voice… But it was also a foreshadowing on our destiny. That song, Think of me… like Elissa's love ours was destined to end soon and like her we had to say good-bye to each other for life."

Erik undid the first two buttons of his shirt and revealed the golden chain around his neck on which he was wearing her engagement ring – the same ring that she had returned to him that last night. "You, too, have been with me all my life, in my thoughts and in my heart. And now… Christine, do you remember what you once promised Raoul on the roof of the Opera? To share with him one love, one lifetime… you never promised him eternal love, just for one lifetime…" his voice trailed, hoping for her to catch on. Christine suddenly looked up. "And at the altar I only vowed to love him till death do us part… that one lifetime will soon be over and death will soon part us…" Erik nodded. "You will soon be free again. May I then… offer you my love and my faith again, for all eternity?"

"Let me see your face once again," she begged, her whole face radiating with love. "Take off your mask and I will give you my answer." Erik hesitated. "Are you sure you can bear that hideous sight?" he asked nervously. Christine smiled. "Yes, I am. Remember that you were not wearing a mask when I kissed you? And I love you, have always loved you, all of you, and my answer to your question is yes." Erik obliged her and slowly took off his mask, prepared to put it back on at once should she show any signs of terror or shock. But Christine lovingly caressed his deformed cheek and eyebrow and slowly began to sing.

"Au revoir dans un monde, où la vie est meilleure  
>Où l'avenir sans fin sonne la première heure;<br>Et là, nous trouverons dans la paix du Seigneur,  
>Cet éternel absent qu'on nomme le bonheur!"<p>

Erik joined in. He knew that duet so well, the final farewell between Elisabeth and Don Carlos. He remembered the opening night of Verdi's opera in 1867. Christine had been among the ballet, how beautiful she had been that night, how graceful! He had watched the performance from his usual seat in box 5. Oh those memories! The song was fitting to their situation. Like them, Elisabeth and Carlos had been separated for life, with her being married to another man, and like them, the protagonists of Verdi's opera were hoping for a reunion in the afterlife.

Christine looked up at him. "Will you please kiss me, Erik?" He shook his head silently. "No, Christine. Not yet. You are still his. We can wait that little bit longer. We will have all of eternity."

Christine nodded. "I will ask Raoul to let you come see me again once I am – free," she whispered. "I want my engagement kiss." She was visibly fading now. Erik understood that her life would be over in minutes. "I have to go now," he told her quietly. "Raoul is still your husband. He has the right to be with you in your last moments." He took her hands in his one more time. "I will keep the ring and wear it till the end of my life. But once I am about to join you, I will offer it to you again as a token of my unending love and fidelity." Christine beamed at him. "I love you," she whispered, while Erik left the room to send Raoul back in.

Half an hour later, Raoul left his wife's room. She had peacefully died in his arms and accepted his last kiss. But she had also made him promise to let Erik see her dead body once again. He was not surprised to find the Phantom still waiting. "You may want to see her again," he told the man, whose grief mirrored his own so well. "Go in, she would want you to be with her." Erik fought back tears. "Thank you," he managed to say. "I know that I misjudged you all those years ago. I do not know if I would be able to treat a rival the way you have done today," he acknowledged.

Raoul sighed. "You did so much more than that. You stepped aside all those years ago and let me have my love and lifetime with her. I do know how much this cost you. Now it is my turn to step aside. I will let you know the day and time of the funeral as well. If you do want to attend… or if you want to send flowers… even if it were red roses…" Erik nodded silently, then entered Christine's bedroom to look at his beloved's face one last time in this world – and to kiss her lips, as he had promised.

Five days later, Christine, Vicomtesse de Chagny was buried. It was a big event, "tout Paris" attended. The beautiful, kind woman had been well liked by the aristocracy as well as by her former colleagues from the Opera. Everybody felt for the heart-broken husband in his wheelchair, tears running down his cheeks during the whole service. Nobody noticed the cloaked figure observing the funeral from the shadows of the nearby Daaé-mausoleum, who looked equally grief-stricken and whose face – the part not covered by a mask – was equally wet with tears, but everybody wondered about the two enormous wreathes of red roses that covered the coffin. The ribbon on one wreath read: "Good bye, Little Lotte. Thank you for sharing with me one love, one lifetime." The inscription on the other one was "Au revoir dans un monde, où la vie est meilleure. Forever yours, my angel".

Roughly two years later, one cold autumn morning, a beautiful ring, tied with a black satin ribbon to a red rose, the symbol of eternal love, lay on the Vicomtesse's grave. Her angel was about to follow her, the couple that had been separated for so long, would soon finally be reunited for all eternity.


End file.
